Russia has spent the past 22 months selling Fifa an audacious vision that is appropriately expansive for a World Cup bid that stretches over 1,500 miles from Kaliningrad on the Polish border in the west to Yekaterinburg beyond the Urals in the east. It is one its supporters claim will open vast new markets, hugely grow the popularity of football in Russia and beyond and leave a lasting legacy of gleaming new stadiums, a new transport network and upgraded infrastructure.

Comparing Russia's bid for the 2018 World Cup with England's is an exercise in contrasts. England highlights its compact nature, its existing iconic stadiums, the huge popularity of its football at home and abroad, the potential to deliver record profits for Fifa and its pitch to deliver a legacy for football around the world. Russia's bid is all about jaw-dropping scale, the potential for growth and talk of what the World Cup could do to showcase "the new Russia", as well as increasingly vocal reminders that it has never hosted the competition.

Its bid proposes 16 stadiums, 14 of them newly built or significantly refurbished, in 13 host cities that are grouped into four clusters and linked by free overland travel. The Russians are promising to spend $6bn (£3.8bn) on football infrastructure alone and many times that on upgrading transport networks, accommodation and city centres, all underwritten by government guarantees. The bid's chief executive, Alexei Sorokin, has been keen to highlight the private investment as well as the public, and oligarchs including Roman Abramovich have been pressed into service.

At every turn Russia has sought to emphasise the potential prize rather than the current practicalities in an attempt to push Fifa's buttons. "England could host the World Cup tomorrow. But we have a vision and Fifa has a philosophy that is about trying to grow in new parts of the world. Football is already very popular in England. We hope that football can be as popular in Russia as it is in England," Vitaly Mutko, the bid chairman and Russian sports minister, told the Guardian this month. "We have a vision and Fifa has a philosophy that is about trying to grow in new parts of the world," Vitaly Mutko, the bid's chairman and Russia's sports minister, told the Guardian. Russian domestic matches are often played in front of half-empty stands but its bid leaders claim that, too, as a positive rather than a negative – arguing that it shows there is room for growth.

Vladimir Putin, who was credited with playing a key role in delivering the 2014 Winter Olympics for Sochi, is likely to spearhead the final few days of lobbying. Indeed the presence of Russia's prime minister will be a reliable barometer as to his country's chances – the former president is unlikely to travel if he does not feel the bid will win.

The technical reports published last week by Fifa highlighted logistical concerns, particularly around transport, where its air travel plans were labelled "high risk". "The country's vastness and geographic location, coupled with the fact that the high-speed railway network is limited and would only link six candidate host cities by 2018, imply a dependence on air travel, potentially causing domestic and international transfer challenges in view of the lack of alternative means of long-distance transport," it said. But Russia believes it can allay those concerns, highlighting the billions being poured into upgrading airports and transport networks. It has also tried to turn its vast size into a positive, talking of its 18 neighbouring countries, its ability to link east and west and the possibility of opening up the Asian market.

The phoney war that raged for months between England and Russia masked a serious purpose as each sought to undermine the other. Dark rumours that Russia was somehow involved with the sting that led to the resignation of Lord Triesman in May as chairman of the England bid were furiously denied by Sorokin, who at the same time accused his rivals of stoking up an unfair furore around racism and hooliganism in Russian football.

Allegations of racism, which came to be symbolised by a banner directed at the striker Peter Odemwingie, now at West Bromwich Albion, by fans of his former club Lokomotiv Moscow, and sporadic outbreaks of violent hooliganism have left the Russian bid sensitive to criticism. Here, too, they claim Russia is misunderstood and that the World Cup could help break down barriers. "We are diverse, yet inclusive. We are multicultural, yet unified," declares its bid literature.

The war of words burst into real acrimony when England complained to Fifa last month over Sorokin's reported comments on London's problems with crime and alcohol, but the episode will have little effect on voting intentions.

Like its rivals, Russia has assiduously courted the members of the executive committee. The resources behind the bid have led to the usual whispers of impropriety, all vigorously denied. Russia appears to have beaten England to the three votes on offer from Africa. Other influential supporters include Franz Beckenbauer and Sepp Blatter himself, which could prove crucial in the latter rounds of voting - for all that the president's influence over his fellow executive committee members is sometimes overstated.

The Fifa president, motivated by the twin concerns of his re-election drive and his place in history, strongly hinted earlier this year that, having taken the World Cup to Africa for the first time, he liked the idea of delivering the first major football tournament in Russia.

"The easiest way to organise the World Cup is to go to England. Everything is there: fans, stadiums, infrastructure – it's easy. But you cannot deny Russia if they bid for something," he said. "They are more than a country, they are a big continent, a big power."

Throughout the course of the year there has been a growing confidence among Russia's bid team as they imperceptibly assumed the mantle of favourites. If the abiding memory of the bidding expo in Cape Town this time last year was Sorokin glowering as he was ignored while delegates thronged around David Beckham and Luís Figo, by the time of the Fifa executive commitee meetings in Zurich last month he was all smiles.

But for all Russia's confidence, rivals believe there are signs they are beatable. Some question whether the billions being pledged to underwrite the World Cup bid would not be better invested in frontline services for Russia's population, where 15% still live below the poverty line. Others might ponder the contradictions inherent in the fact that the same country that promises a huge Fifa Fan Fest in Red Square is under fire from human rights organisations for clamping down on the right to free protest; and that, while England's media have had a negative impact on its chances, the fact that Russia remains one of the most dangerous countries in which to work as a journalist is overlooked.

Those questions are unlikely to detain the 22 individuals with a vote. Fifa maintains a strict line between the sporting and the political and refuses to make value judgments. As long as the host agrees to its demands around visas, tax exemption and so on, it is happy.

The stakes for those leading the Russian bid are high. Mutko came under severe pressure in the wake of a disappointing showing by Russia at the Winter Olympics in Vancouver earlier this year in a range of sports where pre-eminence was once taken for granted. Then he was hammered by an audit commission report that memorably alleged he had claimed for 97 breakfasts during his 20-day stay in Canada and spent $1,499 a night on his hotel room.

Mutko denied the allegations and all would be forgotten if he delivered the World Cup. Sorokin, a former diplomat in Washington who oversaw preparations for the 2008 Champions League final in Moscow, is also under pressure. That was a night that highlighted the fine margins between winning and losing. All the indications are that next week's vote will be just as close.